The Day They Didn't Die
by Hermione's-Purple-Quill78
Summary: October 31st 1981, local family, the Potters where graced with attempted murder by "He who must not be named" Sources say it was a nasty scene, and the family of three was extremely lucky to get out alive. -November 1st,  Wanita Skeeter, Daily Prophet.
1. A Night To Remember

A:N: Obviously I haven't been with you guys for a while. :/ But I came up with this idea, and found it potentially popular. Anyway, here you go.

Summary: October 31st 1981, local family, the Potters where graced with attempted murder by "He who must not be named" Sources say it was a nasty scene, and the family of three was extremely lucky to get out alive. -November 1st, Wanita Skeeter, Daily Prophet.

It was a night to remember weather the victims liked it or not. A bone chilling feeling. Just the way the trees blew in the wind. The play of light would cast unforgiving shadows upon the beige walls. It wasn't a cozy Halloween of eating sweets and curling up by the fire.

The Potters hadn't expected anything. Though their one-year old, Harry, was a bit crankier than normal, they really had no idea. No idea that Lord Voldemort was planning their murder.

No need to get into detail of the scene. It was quite gruesome in fact. You can only imagine that with Voldemort's grotesque ideas of fun. It was easy to see that something had happened in Godric's Hollow that evening. Young Trick-or-Treaters rushed home after hearing blood curdling screams from the Potter home. But there was something missing when Voldemort left, not defeated! But unsuccessful. Lily and James Potter had discussed it in the late of the night after everything.

They'd been taken to St. Mungos for treatment of mild injuries when the conversation was brought up. They'd decided that whatever had happened wasn't the end. Voldemort fled with the full intentions of someday coming back to haunt the Potter's. His "unsuccessfulness" had hurt his pride. He had to prove himself to his followers.

"Front page." Wanita said, pridefully to the other lower reporters in the office. She'd burst into the office with a huge grin on her face, her platinum blonde hair in perfect curls fell over her face, and her red lipstick popping with color on her fair skin. "I just new that it would make front page." She tucked her flashy glasses inside of her purse. "In fact so did Cornelius, he's given my the rest of the day off." She twirled a curl around her finger, and sauntered to her daughter who sat in front of the type writer, probably writing something useless.

The other reporters had turned their heads, and broke into low whispers.

"_Anyone_ could have written that article, mother." Rita sneered, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Rubbish." Wanita began, "There are several reasons why I'm the only one that could pull off a flashy article like that." She said slipping onto her daughter's desk. Rita glared at her mother, than quickly flashed her gaze back to her paper. "One, I'm the best writer in this building. Two, it takes a responsible person to research her sources and get an article out the following day of the event. Three, I'm Wanita Skeeter."

"Just keep telling yourself that." Rita mumbled under her breath,

Wanita had read over the paper a thousand times: October 31st 1981, local family, the Potters where graced with attempted murder by "He who must not be named" Sources say it was a nasty scene.

Detectives advise that family's should protect their children and homes. We never know when "He who must not be named might be back. Anonymous witness says, "The family of three was extremely lucky to get out alive." -November 1st, Wanita Skeeter, Daily Prophet.

Really what stood out the most was her name. Wanita valued herself higher that the price of a thousand galleons. In fact she valued her self higher than anything or anyone.

A:N: First chapters are always short with me. There was really no point in going on here. I need to pick off with another chapter. So did you like it? Reviews get more chapters. :)

-Natalie


	2. Giddy Girls, and Red Heads

A:N: Alright, so I would have updated sooner, but I had a case of writer's block. The last chapter was slightly awkward. Anyways, I had some time to sit and think about the next chapter. I think I've finally got it. Enjoy. :)

Disclaimer: I am in no shape or form J.K. Rowling.

-Eleven Years Later-

Harry remembered the quiet warm evenings, where his mother would sit in her chair, knitting. The clicking of the needles, the loudest noise in the room. The fire would crackle and snap with the occasional burst of ashes as the logs disintegrated.

Dad would flip through the Daily Prophet. Every few minutes you might here him pointing an interesting articles out to Lily, who merely pretended to listen.

Harry sat next to his mothers chair, minding his own business, playing with his toys. All of the sudden Mom felt the silence was too awkward to bare.

"James, do you remember Frank and Alice Longbottom?" She inquired, Dad looked up from the Daily Prophet, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, yeah, yeah." He said distractedly, turning his attention back to the paper. Lily smiled and shook her head.

"You Sirius, Remus, and Peter were always funny. You know, with all your jokes and all." Mom gazed into the distance returning to her memories.

"Yeah, I guess we where." Dad nodded his head, not turning from the paper.

"Harry, dear," Mom began, looking down at Harry. "You'll be going to Hogwarts in a few years." Mom said, as if she couldn't believe Harry had grown so fast.

Back then Harry didn't think much of Hogwarts, but now that he stood on platform 9 ¾, his breath was cut short, and he was more nervous then he'd ever been.

Mom, and Dad had left him here, stranded in a sea of giddy children. Frantically, Harry pushed a trail through the crowd. He focused on the train, and stopped in front of it.

He didn't see anyone boarding, so he wasn't sure if he should get on now or wait. He admired the handiwork of the train. It looked like it had received a fresh coat of shiny red paint, with golden trim, and rimming. The train sported the Hogwarts Crest on it's front, embellished with gold, and rich colors.

Smoke arose from the train, the smell making him cough. He turned around watching the student before him. Girls hugging their friends, and laughing, and screaming, and tears. Mixed emotions overwhelmed Harry, and he didn't know where to go what to do, or what to say. The words "Mom" slipped from his lips in a hoarse whisper.

Suddenly, a portly man stepped off of the train, fixing his conductor's hat.

"All aboard!" he exclaimed, but only about a third of the crowd boarded the train. Kids were still hugging and laughing, and more hugging, and more laughing.

Relieved, Harry made his way to the doors of the train. Pushing past many students that could hex him into next week.

The whistle of the train blew loud in Harry's ears. He thought the impact of the noise could very well know him over. More whistling.

Students were now taking notice of the train. Arm in arm giggling girls skipped to the train, and groups of boys kept their heads low, trying to look cool.

Fearful that he might miss the train, Harry pressed through the current of students. Suddenly, he'd found himself inside. Everyone dragged him in.

On his bum at the entrance of the train, most people walked straight by. Harry felt so vulnerable. Like he might just burst in to tears. _Come on Harry!_, He thought. Taking a deep breath, he tried to get back on his feet but was momentarily being pushed over by several loud seventh years.

"Are you alright, mate?" Harry looked up to see a kid that looked to be Harry's age. With fiery red hair, and sparkling blue eyes, he leaned forward, grabbing Harry up hoisting him off of the ground.

"Yeah, just sorta got trampled." Harry said weakly, straightening his glasses on his face.

"Let's go find some seats." The boy said, with a partially eaten apple in his left hand. Harry nodded, as they continued down the isle of the train.

The farther they walked the stronger the smell of baking pastries were.

"Do they have kitchen here?" Harry asked in disbelief,

"Yeah I think so. This is my first year, but I've got a lot of older brothers to tell me what happens around here." the boy said matter of factly, taking a monstrous bite of apple. Harry didn't expect that the apple would be around much longer.

Compartment, after compartment. They all seemed to be full.

"Is it always this hard to find seats?" Harry asked, "I've been on trains a billion times, but everyone boarded in a more orderly fashion." Harry said, craning his neck to look through the glass of compartment doors.

"Well, were all kids, and orderly isn't really in our dictionary." The boy said, "Anyways, this is my first year after all. I don't really know what it's like every year."

After 5 minutes of walking down the isle, they spotted and open seat.

"Were lucky we've found one to our selves." The boy said, "I was expecting to have to sit with someone obnoxious." Harry nodded, taking a seat on the cobalt blue seats. "Alright, time for introductions." The boy said "I'm Ron, Ron Wesley." He said nodding,

"Harry Potter."

"Bloody Hell..." Ron said, looking at Harry in disbelief. "Your Harry Potter?" His eyes wide he suddenly stopped himself. "Sorry mate. It's just that your famous."

"Yeah, I guess." Harry said.

"Do you remember anything from... that night?" Ron asked,

"No, I was only a baby," Harry said, wishing he had a more legitimate answer.

"Even if you can't remember, it's still cool."

"Anything off the trolly dears?" An elderly woman said poking her head through the compartment doors. Ron sighed. And Harry remembered the money Mom and Dad had given him for food. He pulled a handful of galleons from his pocket.

"How much will this buy?"

A:N:This chapter is pretty trippy, but what can you do. Like I said I'm returning from an awkward chapter. Anyways, please review, thank you.

-Natalie


End file.
